


The Real World

by JustAPassingGlance



Series: seblaine week 2013 [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Reality TV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-03
Updated: 2013-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-27 03:39:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2677643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAPassingGlance/pseuds/JustAPassingGlance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the true story… of eight strangers… picked to live in a house…work together and have their lives taped… to find out what happens… when people stop being polite… and start getting real.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Real World

There were eight of them in total: Blaine Anderson, Rachel Berry, Quinn Fabray, Santana Lopez, Wes Montgomery, Brittany Pierce, Noah Puckerman (only to be known as Puck, under threat of gutting), and Sebastian Smythe.

Everyone was there for different reasons. Sebastian was just bored with his life. He had just finished his sophomore year at a prestigious university that, contractually, was not allowed to be named on television. Santana was looking to gain some pathetic amount of fame in the hopes of launching an equally pathetic music career. Britt just wanted to see how many times she could flash the camera. And Blaine had found himself homeless after a break up that had been a long time coming and desperately needed something different while he tried to figure out what the hell he was going to do with his life. 

From the moment Sebastian had met Blaine he had wanted him and hadn’t been ashamed to admit it. (Loudly, frequently, and as often as humanly possible.) But Blaine had not only just lost his family, but had also just gotten out of long term relationship and had been hesitant to start anything new.   
  
So taking things slow seemed to be the way to go, which was fine with Sebastian because he didn’t really want to be in a relationship with a anyone, much less a fellow cast member.

Or they said they were taking it slow. In practice, however, they spent the majority of their time together. They went out on not-dates once a week, had breakfast together every morning, and were rarely seen separately. And although they hadn’t actually had sex yet, no one believed them because  everyone in the house had walked in on them frantically groping each other at least once.

But Blaine was very insistent on holding off on actual sex because ‘it was an intimate act between two people. Not two people, the six dubiously sane people they are living with, an entire camera crew, and several million television viewers.’

Which, really, when put that way seemed like a fair point. 

Of course, just because they weren’t  _sleeping together_  didn’t mean they didn’t sleep together. The only reason Blaine even remembered what his room looked like was because Wes dragged him back there at least once a week for heart-to-hearts that normally ended in vicious thumb wrestling. Blaine felt bad for abandoning his roommate, especially since he’d been so kind to him during the first two weeks when he’d been struggling not only with his new living situation, but also with all of his personal issues. 

But Sebastian had managed to secure the only single. And really there were some things that Wes didn’t need to hear at 3 in the morning.

* * *

“What the hell happened?” Sebastian asked, running back from the bathroom with a towel slung low around his waist. “There’s broken glass everywhere out there.”

“Puck brought a stripper home. Santana found them in bed together.” It was remarkable how quickly Blaine had adapted to the craziness of the house. A month before, he would have been ducking flying wine glasses while trying to calm everything down. But Santana on the warpath was something that was best avoided.

“But isn’t she with B- someone else?” Sebastian quickly amended, always wary of the potential presence of cameras.

Blaine shrugged; he was always there for any of his housemates if they wanted to talk, but he had better things to do than go nosing about in their business and it had been made clear to him that whatever was going on between Santana and Brittany absolutely did not concern him.

There was more hysterical screaming followed by the sound of something else breaking.

“Maybe I should go make sure there are no sharp objects within her reach.” Sebastian pulled on a pair of boxers and made to go back out into the house. He was the only person who wasn’t afraid of Santana when she got in one of her drunken rages, probably because he had mastered the art of picking her up and forcibly removing her from the situation while only acquiring minimal bruising to himself.

“Or you could come to bed,” purred Blaine, obscenely long eyelashes fluttering seductively. “Deal with the fallout tomorrow.”

“It would be nice to not need stitches tonight.” He let his eyes rove over Blaine’s naked torso, wondering what else he was wearing under the blanket. He was hoping for nothing, but experience suggested it was probably his pajama pants. At least Sebastian had convinced him that the matching shirt was unnecessary, no matter how adorable he looked wearing it.

Eagerly Blaine nodded in agreement and lifted up blankets for Sebastian to crawl between.

“YOU’RE FUCKIN’ CRAZY, YOU FUCKIN’ PSYCHO BITCH,” screamed a voice that was unfamiliar to them both. Presumably it was the stripper who had finally got over the shock of a Santana’s particular brand of insanity.

“Bed sounds great.” 


End file.
